


A Boy in Middle Earth

by MAJR



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Lord of the Rings (Movies)
Genre: Crossover, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-10
Updated: 2016-10-02
Packaged: 2018-04-25 17:48:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 18,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4970503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MAJR/pseuds/MAJR
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Attempting to escape from his bullying cousin Harry Potter, age six year and three months, has an accident which leads to an unusual adventure in a different world</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A couple of years ago now I came up with an idea for a Harry Potter/Hobbit crossover after watching the first of the Hobbit film trilogy. I didn't think that I could write it myself so submitted a challenge on a forum on Fanfiction.net outlining the idea. This is that challenge: topic/125964/83720602/1/Harry-Potter-Hobbit-Crossover-Challenge-or-Request-Either-Way
> 
> Viviene Lily took up the challenge and you can see her take on it here: s/11241805/1/a-new-chance and the sequel here: s/11337573/1/back-to-middle-earth
> 
> I decided the revisit the idea myself and attempt to write the story. I will post the chapters up to the point where I've hit writers block and maybe continue it at some later date. Bear in mind, please, that I'm probably not the best at writing little kids in character.

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\/\/\/\/A Boy in Middle Earth\/\/\/\/

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"There he goes! Get him!"

Harry hunting.

The sport of kings, if kings resembled a small whale that had learned how to walk on land and accumulated a following of smaller creatures that swarmed about in the hope that if they led him to easier prey they wouldn't end up being prey themselves.

He dodged to the left to avoid a diving tackle, leapt over the fallen body and ducked under a flailing arm then shot off for open ground.

This was quickly becoming the playground favourite of St Gregory's Primary School. It was the fifth time this week this had happened, and it was only Monday!

It was all Dudley's fault of course. It always was. Every time they had a few minutes away from an adult Dudley would look for someone to torment, and it always ended up being Harry. Always. Probably got that from his parents.

More and more participants were joining in the pursuit. Corralling him like dogs on the hunt, trying to trap him. The key was to keep moving. Never stop, never get caught, dodge and duck and bob and weave. He only had to last until the bell then it would all be over.

It hadn't taken long for the other kids at St Gregory's to work out that Dudley was a grade A bully. Dudley had this way of making people pay attention to him. It might have been that he hit people, or it might have been that he shouted and wailed – to say he cried would not do the noise justice – or it might have been the fact that he was as heavy as cow and could squash another kid just by standing next to them. Whatever the case he was the biggest, heaviest, strongest, loudest boy in the classroom and he knew it and everyone else knew it too.

Harry, by contrast, was the smallest and weakest. He was thin as a rake and wore extremely loose fitting and worn second hand clothes – so much so that on a sunny day you could see his bones through the fabric of his shirt – and with wild untamed knotted hair and thick bottle cap glasses everything about him screamed "victim".

It was little wonder then that the rest of the class were all too happy to sacrifice him to save their own skins. And the worst part was he didn't even resent them for it. Really, if he was in their shoes' he'd probably do the same.

But Harry had fundamental weaknesses that made him the easier target over everyone else. He was an orphan, Dudley was his cousin and he lived with his Aunt and Uncle who hated him and adored Dudley. So the universe had decreed that Dudley was to be the bully and Harry was to be the bullied.

At the age of six years, three months and a day, give or take, it was kind of depressing that he'd accepted this as his lot in life and just went with it.

Rounding the corner was the mistake. He hadn't looked, he'd acted on instinct, and, boy, was it going to come back to bite him now! It was a dead end. Walls to both sides leading to a small corner garden containing the school's ornamental pond – used for teaching the kids about bugs and pond-life – and the pack was behind him. There was no way out.

"Got yer now Potter!"

Harry turned towards the voice and there stood a thin weedy boy with a face only a mother could love – or perhaps a rat. Piers Polkiss

"Just let me go Peirs, I've done nothing to you"

"No can do Potter. You had this coming"

"Why? I've never done anything!"

"Yeah, well, Dudley said so, so there!"

Harry knew appealing was in vain. Piers was Dudley's best friend – if you could call any of his followers friends – and was always the first to follow Dudley's orders. In fact, if you could count on Piers for anything it was to hold you down while Dudley hit you. Looking for mercy from him was hopeless.

The only reason Piers hadn't touched him yet was because Dudley wasn't there yet – a boy with Dudley's girth takes a significant amount of time to get anywhere – but the beating was sure to happen when it did.

Now, Harry thought of himself as somewhat brave but he didn't like get hit, he didn't like getting bullied, and he was afraid of it, or, perhaps, it would be more accurate to say, he was afraid of how powerless he was to stop it.

Unconsciously he backed towards the pool. Perhaps on some level he was thinking that he might be able to jump across it and shimmy up the wall to safety before Piers could realise what was going on and get away, whatever the case he misjudged the distance and just as his cousin's flabby profile blocked out the sun Harry slipped and tumbled into the water.

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The pond was deep, far deeper, in fact, than any small ornamental pond aught to be.

It seemed to stretch deep into the earth, as if someone had tunnelled right through to the core then put a plug in and filled up it up with water. And Harry didn't just break the surface - he sank like a stone.

He couldn't help but panic. He didn't want to die, and he certainly didn't want to die like this. He thrashed around with all his might, trying to make some progress through the water, trying to find the surface, yet still he sank.

Down, down into the deep dark water he fell. The air leaving his lungs, the light fading from his eyes until all that was left was the pressure pushing him this way and that, squeezing him, stretching him, without pause or pity.

He broke the surface with gasp, choking on gulps of air while at the same time spitting out mouthfuls of water. He wasn't sure how he got out, he was sure he'd still been sinking, but he was out! He was alive!

He was safe!

…at least, as safe as he could be given the circumstances. Any minute now Dudley and his gang would jump on him and beat him up. They wouldn't care that he'd almost died. They never cared at all.

Nothing happened.

Minutes ticked by as Harry remain knelt over by the pool just waiting for the beating that was sure to come but it never did. He risked raising his head to see what was happening and froze.

This wasn't his school.

He was surrounded by trees and bushes and, and, and all other kinds of plants he didn't even know the name of. It was dark and dense and deserted, and he couldn't even see where the forest ended. Now he was paying attention he could hear the cacophony of forest life – the chirping of birds, the rustling of animals in the undergrowth, even the wind whistling through the trees – this made no sense!

He'd just fallen into the school's pond and come out in some forest. He may have only been six years and a bit but even he knew this wasn't possible. You can't fall into a few meters of water in one place and come out somewhere completely different. It just didn't happen.

The shadows in the forest twitched and danced in the fading light and to Harry they appeared like monstrous creatures lurking in the dark. He was afraid, and he was alone.

"Dudley?"

He listened keenly but without much hope.

"Piers?"

And what little hope he had was sinking.

"Anyone?"

No response. Panic set in.

"Please! Anyone! Someone! I don't know where I am!"

Still no answer.

This wasn't fair! All he'd wanted was not to get bullied by his cousin and now he was lost and alone in some dark scary forest. He just wanted to go home! Okay, it wasn't a nice home, but it was still home and still better than here!

Tears fell from his face in streams as the little boy wept and cried out piteously for help, help he feared would never come.

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	2. Chapter 2

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"Oh!"

"Wha-wha-what's this eh?"

Radagast the Brown was a wizard. He considered himself a quiet sort of person who liked to stay out of the way and keep to himself. Oh, he could be helpful if someone needed him and came to him but he didn't go out of his way to offer his service.

He liked his quiet little life in the Greenwood, in his tumbledown shack at Rhosgobel, with the tree growing through the roof and the door hanging off the hinges, the mice living in the wall and the birds nestling in the thatch, and he liked all the kinds of animals and plants found nearby.

He and people didn't get on you see. They thought he was strange because he didn't care about his appearance, he allowed birds to nest in his hair, lived on a diet solely of vegetation and didn't approve of violence, and he found people too complicated, too caught up in their own affairs and their own desires that they couldn't see the important things in life.

Animals were far easier to understand. They lived by simple ideals. Live, eat, reproduce and die. Yet what was remarkable was all the variety in which every creature had found to fulfil those ideals. Each individual species had its own unique way of life and each was precious and wonderful. A true testament to the power of life.

So, yes, Radagast was not a people person.

Yet here was a person. He had stumbled across a person. A little person. Oh! What were they called? What, what was it? Children! That was it! A child!

But what was a child doing out here?

"Er-er-erm hello there, um, child. Er what, er, what are you doing out here? All, er, all alone. Are you lost?"

The boy looked up through tear stained eyes, blinked once, twice, and then threw himself forward to wrap his arms around the wizard's leg.

Radagast froze and panicked all at once. He was glued to the spot but his eyes darted around as if seeking guidance from some unseen force. What did you do with a child in a situation like this?

He tentatively lowered his hand and patted the boy's head.

"Um, are you, erm, is, er, that is to say, are you alright?"

The boy shook his head and buried himself further against the robes of the wizard, muttered something unintelligible, and tightened his grip.

"How, er, how did you get here? This forest is no place for a child on their own"

"I don't know!"

"Oh. Oh dear. Well, erm, maybe, maybe I can help in, er, in some, some way. Erm, would that, er, help?"

"I dunno! I just wanna go home!"

Radagast felt a surge of pity for the boy. Lost, frightened and alone. How could he not? He carefully broke the child grip from his leg and squatted down beside him.

"It's alright. If I can help I will. What is you name?"

The boy wiped his face with his sleeve and gave a shuddering sigh.

"H-Harry"

"Well…Harry, my, my name is Radagast, and I will help you. But I, er, already said that, didn't I?"

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Harry was happy Mr Radagast had found him, even if Mr Radagast smelled worse than any person he'd ever met and looked like the kind of homeless person Uncle Vernon used to kick on the street. He wasn't alone any more. Sure, he was no less lost than he had been but at least someone had come along so he wasn't lost alone.

Mr Radagast told him that he was going to take him back to his house and that he could stay there for a while. Mr Radagast said he planned to send a message to someone who might be able to help. That was good. Maybe he'd be home before tomorrow.

When Harry first saw Mr Radagast's house he thought it was a ruin of some kind, but Mr Radagast looked so happy and proud of it that Harry didn't share that thought.

"This is my home Harry. It's, erm, not much, but I like it. I hope you will too."

"It's…nice, sir"

"I'm pleased you think so! I'm, er, I don't get many visitors you know, people, um, people and me don't really…get on, but you are welcome here, and safe here. You can use my bed to sleep in and in the morning, well, in the morning, er, we'll just see about the morning when it comes, eh?"

"Yes, er, Mr Radagast"

"Don't you worry Harry, soon, soon this will all be sorted, just, erm, just go and have a nice sleep alright?"

"Yes sir."

Rhosgobel creaked and groaned during the night. Being built around a tree did somewhat expose it to the elements, and when the tree swayed in the wind so too did the house. By all rights in this strange bed in this strange house in a strange forest Harry should have struggled to get any sleep at all, but he was so exhausted by the day's events that as soon as he lay upon the bed he was asleep.

Radagast stepped away from his home and walked out into the night. He needed to collect his thoughts.

A child! What could he do for a child? Help him of course, but how? He only knew the boy's name. He didn't know where he came from or how he got to the forest, and he didn't even know where to start when it came to finding these things out. This was totally out of his area of expertise.

There was only one solution. Gandalf would know.

He hooted into the night and an owl answered his call. Within moment a small brown owl sat upon his hand and they exchanged hoots, and clicks and screeches. Then the bird flew off.

Now all the wizard had to do was work out how to look after a child for a few days, or weeks, or months…

"Oh dear"

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	3. Chapter 3

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Mr Radagast, Harry noticed, was kind of odd. He didn't act like any adult Harry had ever known. Adults, in Harry's experience, either demanded that he work for them then punished him when he didn't or else ignored him. Mr Radagast did neither of those things.

Mr Radagast waved off Harry's offers to cook and clean for him, insisting that the house was fine as it was and Harry only had to cook if he wanted to himself. But there was nothing really to cook unless you like vegetables – and yuck! Nobody likes vegetables! But that seemed to be the only thing Mr Radagast would eat so that was all there was.

And far from ignoring him, Mr Radagast insisted on keeping Harry company. It was clear, even to Harry's six and three month old understanding, that Mr Radagast was deeply uncomfortable around him and didn't really know what to do with him or how to deal with him, but he was trying and that was…nice.

"These are Rhosgobel Rabbits"

Mr Radagast had taken Harry on a walk down toward a river. On the bank sat several large rabbits bathing in the sun. To call them large was a major understatement. They were bigger than Harry was, one of them even looked bigger than Dudley!

"They're so big!"

"They are, they are! They're the biggest rabbits in the world. Completely wild, completely untameable, a wonder of their kind. Do you know they can cross the whole forest in less than two hours and be half way across the mountains in less than a day!"

Mr Radagast lit up as he talked about these rabbits. He was like that with every animal, Harry noticed.

"Oh! Now, I didn't bring you down here just to see them Harry, magnificent though they are. I thought maybe you'd like to meet one of my friends."

"Your friends sir?"

"Oh, I know I don't, er, really seem the, er, type for friends, per say, but you'll understand soon, that is, if you want to…"

"…I think that'd be nice Mr Radagast"

"Splendid. I know you'll get along just fine. I know it. Er…at least I hope so. Oh, never you worry lad, it'll be fine, it'll be fine."

At that the wizard let out an odd sound of squeaks and clickings, the kind of noise a human being should not be able to make. The rabbits largely ignored him save for the largest who spared the wizard a glance before lazily scratching a hind leg at its ear.

From a nearby tree a small red squirrel scurried and leapt from branch to branch until he came to rest on Radagast's shoulder and answered him in similar sounds.

"This is Eucephalus, Harry, he is an old and dear friend of mine."

"But he's a squirrel!"

"Yes! A squirrel! And a noble and admirable creature!"

"But he's a squirrel!"

"And a living creature, a sentient creature – oh, er, you don't know that word? That means he thinks for himself – just because he's a squirrel doesn't mean he can't be a friend. The world is full of strange things, dark and terrible things, sometimes it is good just to admire the little things. Never forget Harry, that all life has meaning and all creatures, from the greatest to those that seem most insignificant, can affect the world."

Harry gave the squirrel a distrusting look. Mr Radagast was clearly odd. Friends with a squirrel! How could anyone who was friends with a squirrel not be odd? But Mr Radagast was making an effort so, Harry supposed, he should too.

He held out a hand towards the Squirrel as a greeting.

"Hello."

Eucephalus took one sniff of Harry's fingers and bit him. Harry cried out in shock more than pain and cradled his hand. The squirrel retreated to the trees and Harry pointed an accusatory finger at the animal.

"He bit me!"

"Oh dear. Well, he is a wild animal after all…"

"But he bit me!"

"And I'm sorry about that, I truly am. I had no idea he would do that. He's not usually like this."

Mr Radagast looked so upset and confused that Harry couldn't help but believe him.

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Days passed into weeks. Harry's desire to return home remained though he couldn't help but admit that Rhosgobel was a lot nicer than Privet Drive. Sure he might only have vegetables to live off, and he missed the miracle of indoor plumbing, but Mr Radagast was kind and generous and never ordered him to do anything or punished him or shouted at him, and apart from that incident with the Squirrel nothing here had tried to hurt him.

Mr Radagast had told him that he was waiting for a friend so he could help him return home and, to be honest, Harry was quite happy spending his days with the wizard. He got to play games, he got to meet a whole variety of animals, he was even trying to learn to talk to some of them – a skill that he still couldn't quite believe Mr Radagast could do.

Secretly, Harry harboured the hope that Mr Radagast might want to let him stay.

One night he and Mr Radagast sat outside the house at Rhosgobel. The sky could be seen through an opening in the leaves and the stars and moon were visible beyond it. It was a mild night, and a quiet one.

"Do you know the story of how the world was made?"

"No."

"Would you like to hear it?"

"Yes please"

"…once there was nothing but Ea, yet Eru Iluvatar thought, and from those thoughts came the Ainur, and to them he granted the gift of music. Each carried with them their own purpose and with it their own song; and they sung together in harmony. But then came Melkor, strongest of all, who disrupted the harmony, so Eru Iluvatar began the song again, yet still Melkor broke the harmony of the song. A third time the song began and when Melkor tried to corrupt this one he was unable so the song reached its end. And from this song was created the world and every thing in it, Melkor's discord brought evil but the song could not be corrupted."

"Music made the world?"

"Yes, Harry, music made the world."

"Are you sure? It's just my Uncle said God made the world in seven days."

"Seven days? Really? Well, erm, I don't know about that…

"And my teacher said something about a big bang"

"Well, um, music made the world, I'm sure of it. You see Harry, music is the lifeblood of the universe. We all are part of a song, and when life ends the song continues."

"Yes Mr Radagast"

"Oh, never mind, never mind. Just a story eh?"

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	4. Chapter 4

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It was not often that Radagast was away from Rhosgobel, and even less so now that he had a child to look after, but needs must. Rhosgobel was running low on supplies so it was time to go foraging.

He had left Harry behind; telling him that he shouldn't be long and Rhosgobel would be perfectly safe without him. Harry was to stay there and wait for him to return,

It was a rainy day and even the many leaves of the Greenwood could not keep the water from reaching the forest floor. Harry was bored. He knew that Mr Radagast didn't want him to tidy up the house but there was very little to do now that Mr Radagast was gone and that it was raining.

Harry tried to preoccupy himself with a game but Mr Radagast's hut was woefully under-stocked on games and toys, so the best he had to use was his imagination. The game was treasure hunt. Somewhere around the house would be the treasure – just whatever random item of the day he chose, a cup or a bowl or something – and he, as a daring adventurer, had to search for it, fighting off bad guys and everything to get there.

He had just finished defeating a band of evil Pirates when a there came a thump at the door.

Harry froze. It couldn't be Mr Radagast. This was his house and he didn't knock. He never knocked. He never had visitors either.

Another thump at the door.

He was the only one here, and Mr Radagast hadn't said anything about someone turning up or him answering the door. He didn't know what to do.

Another thump. Louder, more impatient.

Only one thing to do then. Harry crept to the door and lifted the latch allowing it to swing open. In the gloom outside there stood a tall figure, little more than a shadow, carrying a long staff and towering in the door frame. The shadowy figure was large and, to a six year old home alone, frightening.

"Who are you?"

"I-I-I"

Harry slammed the door shut and turned and ran. He didn't know to where he was running, he didn't think, he just ran. All that was going through his mind was the thought of some stranger breaking into the house at Rhosgobel and hurting him while Mr Radagast wasn't there to protect him, and how he wished he was with Mr Radagast at that moment.

There was a loud crack.

Somehow, and he'd never really understand how, he found himself in the forest, tumbling to the floor. He could still see Rhosgobel from where he sat. He could see a light moving around the house and he could hear a voice calling out in the dark. He was afraid to go back. He had to find Mr Radagast.

He turned and fled into the forest and, as soon as he was certain he was far enough away that the stranger would not hear him, he called out for Mr Radagast in desperation and fear.

"Mr Radagast! Help! Mr Radagast!"

The forest stirred all around him as he blindly delved into its dark heartland. Inevitably he tripped and fell.

Spider webs clung to his body and held him fast. Terror gripped him again. He had no issue with spiders, generally, but this night in his fear stricken panic it only added to his woes.

He struggled to free himself from the web. Tossing and turning with all his might but it was no use. He could not wrench himself free.

He heard scuttling noise. And clicking.

Then again.

And another.

And another still.

It was coming from all around him. A streak of lighting flashed across the sky and immediately Harry wished it hadn't. He closed his eyes and wished with all his might that he hadn't seen what that light had revealed.

Spiders. Monstrously large spiders. Five of them. All around him, advancing upon him.

"Help! Someone! Please! Help! Please!"

Fear had driven him senseless. He was just repeating those words over and over again. He could do nothing else.

The Spiders advanced upon him. Their chattering increasing in speed and volume the closer they came. He could feel them hovering over him, he could feel one climb his chest, he could almost sense its fangs clamping down on his head.

The thumping of legs brought with it a rush of wind and a light burst through the trees scattering the Spiders.

"Harry!"

That was Mr Radagast! Harry dared to open his eyes. The wizard was leaning over him, carefully plucking him from the spider's web. He looked white and pale, terrified over something and was speaking low, almost chanting.

"Be alright Harry, please be alright"

"Go back to the darkness! You'll make no meals here tonight"

That was the voice of the stranger. The light seemed to be coming from him and the Spiders cowered before him.

"Take the child Radagast, I'll be along shortly."

"Right, right, take Harry, right…"

"He'll be better back at Rhosgobel, and so will you. I'll make sure these foul creatures do not follow you."

"Yes, alright, um…be safe."

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Radagast was shaken. Deeply and truly.

Harry had run off, somehow disappearing from Rhosgobel with a crack, and almost been killed by Spiders. It was a terrifying thought.

The Brown wizard was hovering over the bed where the boy lay.

He had grown incredibly fond of the child in the weeks they had been together.

He was such a sweet boy. Well behaved, good natured, kind, forgiving, it was horrible to think that all that had almost come to an end; and all because he hadn't been there.

Radagast would never have forgiven himself if they hadn't found Harry in time.

And all this because of a misunderstanding.

The door burst open. Gandalf had returned.

"Well, this has been an interesting event."

"He almost died Gandalf"

"Yes."

"But he almost died! What would I have done?"

"Fortunately it did not come to that."

"But what would I have done?"

"Don't dwell on this Radagast. You will only torment yourself. We found him in time, take comfort in that."

"How can I? When this all happened because of me."

"It was not your fault. You did not know I would arrive tonight. I should have sent word ahead."

"But I should have known! I should have been here!"

"What is done is done. We cannot change it. The boy is here, he is safe, and we must look to the future."

"…the future?"

"Yes. He cannot stay here. The forest is no place for a child."

"I know. I know. That's why I sent for you. We've got to get him home. I promised him. I promised!"

"A promise I hope to help you keep, but we cannot do that until we know where he came from. Has he spoken at all about how he came to be here?"

"Yes, um, yes. He, he told me he was running from someone; someone who was trying to hurt him, and fell into a deep pool then came here. It sounded like magic to me but what kind I couldn't say."

"…magic indeed..."

"You suspect something?"

"…how does a child disappear in a moment and reappear some considerable distance away a moment later if not with magic?"

"You think that's what happened tonight?"

"I'm almost certain of it. I believe this child is capable of performing magic, though to what extent is uncertain."

"But he's never shown anything like this before…unless…"

"Yes. I believe it was his magic that brought him here. The why he explained; the how I don't know, but it would seem that magic is the root cause, and it is his own."

"Then we must help him Gandalf! We must! There must be some way!"

"Perhaps there is, but I do not know of it now. It may be that the only one who can help is the boy himself."

A silence drifted over them. Radagast watched the child sleeping softly in his bed and dwelt on the night's events while Gandalf watched the other wizard and waited.

"He cannot stay here, but where will he go?"

"I can think of but one place in Middle-Earth where he will be safe. The House of Elrond."

"Rivendell? I-I don't know. Do you think he'll be happy there?"

"Elves are natural caregivers and dote on the young, and Elrond has a foster son close to the boy's age, it will be safe, and it will be good for him to have someone to play with."

"…I don't want him to go Gandalf."

"It's for the best."

The Grey Wizard patted his friend supportively upon the shoulder and left the room. Radagast's sat by the bedside and returned to his vigil.

"I don't want him to go."

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	5. Chapter 5

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Harry awoke the next morning in a panic. His dreams had been plagued by shadowy figures and monsters. And he remembered the night before, he remembered running, he remembered the stranger and Spiders and, worse still, he remembered the look on Mr Radagast's face.

He didn't know what to make of it. Why had Mr Radagast looked so scared? He hadn't been the one in danger.

He heard a light snoring from his side and glanced towards it. It was Mr Radagast, sat on a chair beside him asleep. Why was he there? He usually slept in a makeshift cot he'd put in the kitchen – at least, ever since he'd allowed Harry to use the bed – it looked uncomfortable.

Had Mr Radagast been there all night? Why would he do that?

Harry put this matter aside and carefully crept out of bed as nature came calling. Something's just can't be put off.

As he re-entered the house he gave a start then stood still. There at the table sat the stranger. Now in the daylight he appeared to be an old man, older in appearance than Mr Radagast but more…clean, he was smoking a pipe. He seemed lost in his thoughts.

Harry's immediate thoughts were to run, to get away, maybe run outside, or find Mr Radagast or something, anything not to be in the room with the stranger. But before he could make up his mind the old man glanced towards him and blinked in surprise, then offered him a small smile.

"Oh! I didn't realize you were awake. I'm sorry about last night. I didn't mean to frighten you like that. It was a bit of an unexpected surprise for both of us I fear. I hope you're not feeling too bad after what happened."

"Um, I, er, not, erm, not too bad, er sir."

"Oh dear. I don't seem to have made the better of first impressions. You don't have to fear me little one. I wouldn't harm you."

"…not little…"

"Forgive me, young one then. Or perhaps, if you'd prefer, we could give one another our names. Would that be to you liking?"

"…suppose…"

"Well then, I am Gandalf, the Grey. Radagast is…my cousin. And your name young one?"

"'m'Harry"

"It is good to meet you Mharry. I hope we shall be friends"

Harry giggled, and Gandalf smiled a little wider.

"Not Mharry, just Harry."

"Are you sure? You look more like an Mharry to me."

Harry knew the man was being silly, that's what made it fun. And when the man was being silly he wasn't being scary.

"Can we be friends now just Harry or am I still too scary?"

"…we can be friends Mr Gandalf."

"Then it is indeed a pleasure to meet you Harry. I hear you have been looking after my cousin. I hope he hasn't been giving you too much trouble."

"Mr Radagast's the best!"

"Is he now? I hope you haven't told him that. It wouldn't do for his head to swell."

"...well…er…"

"Well, what say you go and wake him up? The day is getting late and I'm sure he has something he wants to talk about."

"Er, ok, sir."

Harry began to leave the room before a thought came into his head causing him to pause. He turned back to Gandalf and hesitated.

"Um, Mr Gandalf sir?"

"Yes Harry?"

"I'm sorry about, about slamming the door and running away."

"Don't worry about that. There was no harm done in the end. I understand why you did it; just don't be in a hurry to do it again."

"Yes sir. Um…will I be in trouble for it?"

"I couldn't say. You shall have to ask that of Radagast."

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Harry thought to find Mr Radagast still asleep on the chair beside the bed but when he entered the room he found no one. He turned his head this way and that, looked around the entirety of the room but could still see no sign.

"Mr Radagast?"

No one answered his call.

"Can you hear me? Mr Gandalf says you have to get up and says you want to tell me something."

Still no reply.

Maybe he was in another room. Harry decided he would check. For the next half-hour he searched Rhosgobel room by room looking for its owner, calling out for him but received no answer.

This was odd. He hadn't been gone that long, and he was certain no one had left the house. Mr Radagast should be here but he wasn't answering, and there was no sign of him.

What else? Where else could he be if not here?

Well, maybe he went to get water from the river. He did that most days just to have something to drink, it was the closest source of fresh water and Rhosgobel itself did not have any well to speak of. And so, thinking that his best bet, he headed out the door and towards the river.

"You're being childish about this."

Gandalf lit his pipe afresh and blew out a puff of smoke. He spoke to an empty room. There was a shimmering of light and Radagast slowly became visible. He was gazing out the open door, watching Harry walk towards the river.

"You can't just hide from him. He won't stop looking for you. He's very fond of you."

"I know that, I know, of course I do, but its so hard Gandalf! I look at him and I think about what might have happened, and how I let him down, and, and I just know he, I, just, you know…he's going to hate me!"

"Why ever would you think that?"

"Because I let that happen, because I wasn't there to protect him, because, because…because I'm going to send him away."

"hmm, yes, I don't imagine he will be pleased to hear that, but its for his own good. You know that."

"Well, yes. Of course I know that, and you know that, but how can I tell him that?"

"Just be honest with him. He will understand. Perhaps not immediately, but in time he will."

"…I've never, er, I don't, er, what, what would I say? Exactly? How could I tell him he can't stay here without, without, er…"

"Making him believe you don't want him."

"…erm…yes…"

"You will have to tell him your reasons. Explain to him that the forest is a dangerous place and you cannot be there always to protect him. Explain that this is for his benefit and your own, that you want him to be safe and happy and you cannot guarantee him that here."

"…will that work?"

"…I cannot say. People can be unpredictable."

"That's what I'm afraid of."

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	6. Chapter 6

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"Hello, um, Harry. We, er, we need to talk about something"

Radagast had ventured out, eventually, to find Harry besides the river, surrounded by three Rabbits. Wild and untameable though Rhosgobel Rabbits were, they were also gentle friendly creatures, and one of the larger ones was permitting the little boy to pet it. It was something which seemed to amuse him. Harry turned away from the Rabbit as Radagast addressed him.

"Mr Radagast!"

Like a shot the boy was up and running toward him. He clamped his arms around the wizard's legs and held fast, hugging with all his might. After a while he looked up, not letting go his grip for a second.

"I couldn't find you. I looked everywhere!"

"Er, well, yes, er, well, look-look-look Harry we, um, we need to talk."

"Mr Gandalf said I should find you. Is he really your cousin?"

"What? Oh, yes, I suppose he is, in a way…"

"Is he the friend you said would help me get back?"

"Well, I thought he would be the, er, best bet..."

"Oh. That's good. Um, can he help?"

"I'm, er, not sure. Anyway, look, I-I really need to talk to you about this. I-it's important."

"Is it about last night? I'm sorry I ran away, but I didn't know it was you cousin and I was scared and I didn't know what else to do and, and, and…am I in trouble?"

"No Harry. No. You're not in trouble. You've done nothing wrong. But please! Please listen!"

Radagast pried himself free of Harry's grip and knelt down so as to look the boy in the eye. He grasped the child's shoulders firmly, almost as if to anchor himself to that moment. He took a deep breath and steeled himself.

"Harry, you know I'm…fond of you don't you?"

"Yes Mr Radagast."

"A-and when I say fond I mean I-I care for you. A lot. You know that?"

"…yes…"

"Well, well, you see, I don't, don't want to, if I could I wouldn't do it, if there was any other way, but there's not, and its really for the best, and, and, well, it's for the best you see…"

"See what Mr Radagast? What's for the best?"

"Th-th-that you can't, can't, erm, that is to say, well, er, the forest is no place for a child, a-and there's, I-I'm not able to, well…well, you'll have to…go…"

The word, though almost whispered, hit Harry as if he had been struck in the stomach – and experience he had ample opportunity to enjoy at the hands of Dudley but never before had someone managed the same feat without physically hitting him.

"G-go?"

"I really don't want to, b-but it's for the best. You'll go to Rivendell, and it'll be nice, and you'll make friends, and, and, you'll be happy, and, and, oh! Please don't cry. Please…"

"B-but, you said you'd, you'd help! You, you promised!"

"I'm trying to help you. Gandalf and I will do everything, everything we can to help."

"Bu-but you, you, you, you're sending me away! You don't want me!"

The boy was such a pitiful figure, distraught and weeping, so similar to how he had been when Radagast had first stumbled upon him, and it was a terrible feeling to know that he had been the one to cause it. The wizard swept the weeping child into his arms and shushed him gently.

"Oh, Harry, please understand. I do want you. I do love you. But that's why you can't stay here. I want you to be happy, and I want you to be safe, and I can't give you that. I can't protect you. I let you down and you almost died because of it. I could never have forgiven myself if you had…"

Radagast gave a shuddering breath and closed his eyes, allowing himself a moment to replay the scene of the previous night, of the small child frightened beyond measure, surrounded by giant spiders, one straddling his chest ready for the kill…then he blinked and looked down at the boy in his arms.

"This is the best for both of us, sending you away does not mean I don't care for you. You can be safe and happy at Rivendell, and knowing you'll be safe and happy would make me happy."

"Bu-but I'm happy here! With you!"

"I know, I know, and so am I, but it can't continue. I can't keep you safe and, and, please understand that. I want what's best for you and, and…and staying here isn't it."

"How do you know that?"

"Because I know myself Harry. I'm forgetful, I overlook things, I don't plan things out or, or make allowances for things. I would do my best to protect you, to look after you, but I'd make mistakes, and that would put you in danger. And there are worse things in the dark places of the world than those foul spiders."

"I don't care! Everyone makes mistakes. I wanna stay with you!"

"You can't stay here! It isn't safe for you and I can't protect you, and if something happened to you I, I'd, I just can't risk that happening!"

"But I don't wanna leave!"

"I'm sorry Harry, I truly am but you have to."

"But…"

"No! No Harry, this…this is final. You, your going to Rivendell and, and, there's nothing that will change it."

Harry looked lost and confused. He glanced this way and that as if seeking answers from the ether before he turned his gaze back to the Brown Wizard. The look of betrayal and heartbreak upon the young boy's face was startling and cut Radagast like a knife.

"Harry…"

The child turned a fled towards Rhosgobel without once looking back.

Radagast sank to the floor and buried his head in his hands. He knew Harry wouldn't like it, he knew it was going to be painful, but it had been worse than he'd imagined it would be. He had never wanted to hurt the child. Sending him away was meant to protect him, to be a good thing, the best thing for him, but telling him that he had to go was heart breaking. He never wanted to experience that, and never wanted Harry to experience it either.

This was the problem with people. Too many emotions, too many feelings, all too easy to damage, all too easy to hurt, he just had to hope that he Harry would forgive him.

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Harry spent the rest of the day curled up in the covers of the bed at Rhosgobel crying, feeling sorry for himself and bemoaning the situation.

Mr Radagast had been the first person he'd ever met who seemed to care for him. He had taken Harry into his home when he was lost and promised to help him, he had kept him company and been happy just to let him play or explore, he'd never shouted or got angry, he never talked down to him or hurt him, and made Harry feel happy, wanted, even loved.

Rhosgobel had been more of a home for him in the weeks he'd been there than Privet Drive had ever been.

But now Mr Radagast was sending him away.

And it hurt.

Harry had been hurt before, many times physically, but this lingered like no pain he'd had before. He didn't remember much about his parents; they had died when he was very young and lived mainly in his imagination, so he couldn't recall the trauma of losing them but he wondered if this was similar.

Mr Gandalf had tried to rouse him from his pity at one point but Harry refused to answer. Mr Gandalf seemed to take the hint and occupied himself for the rest of the day pottering around the hut, muttering to himself or smoking by the door.

Mr Radagast did not return to Rhosgobel that day.

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	7. Chapter 7

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The following day dawned cold and damp, a light mist covered the forest floor rising from the river, and Harry rose from the bed shivering. It was still dark when he woke and the sun was only just peaking over the horizon, so he had lingered a bit in the bed cocooned in the covers. Now he shuffled slowly into the kitchen area, half awake and bleary eyed.

Mr Gandalf sat at the table, once again seemingly lost in his thoughts. Harry gazed around the hut.

"…where's Mr Radagast?"

The Grey Wizard turned his head to look at Harry and sat silent for a moment or two.

"I don't know"

"Did…didn't he come back at all?"

"Not that I know of, but that doesn't mean he hasn't."

"What do you mean?"

"He is wizard Harry, and a powerful one. In some ways he is greater than other. He was once known as the master of shapes and changes of hue. Simply put, if Radagast does not want to be found then no force in this world will find him."

"Oh…"

Harry was disappointed but a bit relieved. He wanted to know where Mr Radagast was and that he was safe but he didn't really want to face him again, at least not so soon. He was still angry with him.

He was still somewhat intimidated by Mr Gandalf. Where Mr Radagast seemed bumbling and uncomfortable, unsure of himself and unthreatening, Mr Gandalf carried himself with an air of confidence and seriousness, and seemed all the more imposing for it. When he had been here alone with the Brown Wizard then Rhosgobel had seemed warm and hospitable, a bit creaky and ramshackle but charming, alive even, but now he was alone with the Grey Wizard it seemed too small, too cramped, and almost oppressive. It was hard to explain but Rhosgobel was a happier and friendly place when Mr Radagast was there.

Thinking this made Harry remember the conversation he'd had with Mr Radagast the day before, and then he remembered Mr Gandalf's arrival and how terrifying it had been.

"Mr Gandalf?"

"Yes Harry. What is it?"

"Do I have to go?"

"I rather think so."

"But, I like it here. I like Mr Radagast, and Rhosgobel. I don't want to go."

"I understand Harry, I really do. I'm fond of him as well, and I know he doesn't want to send you away. "

"Then why is he?!"

"I don't know exactly how he explained it to you yesterday but he wants to keep you safe. He blames himself for the incident with the spiders and is afraid that if something similar were to happen again it could end far worse."

"But that was my fault! I ran away. Mr Radagast didn't do anything wrong!"

"You may see it that way but he does not. You have to understand Harry that he has watched over the Greenwood for more years than bear counting, his knowledge of the forest is unequalled, and he knows far better than any that it is not the place it once was. Evil seeps into the woodland, its reach growing longer every day, turning the forest itself to sickness. He has witnessed this and it worries him, still he took you into his home believing he could keep you safe, believing he could help you, and yet while you were in his charge you came so very close to death. It has shaken him to his very core. He does not trust himself to watch over you and keep you from harm. So you see, he does not want to send you away but he sees no alternative."

"But I, I can be better. I could, I could…I could stay in Rhosgobel all day and only leave if I'm with him, or, or Mr Radagast could teach me more about the forest and I could help him, or…"

"The very fact that you faced death so close to Rhosgobel proves how dangerous the forest has become. Think of Radagast and how he feels. That he did not know the spiders had come so close to his own home frightens him, and he now doubts his knowledge of the forest and his ability to protect those he cares for. I have known none care so deeply for his charges than Radagast. All life is precious to him, and he feels the pain of others far deeper than you could imagine. I suspect that is partly the reason he associates with animals far more than people. It is not a lie to say that for you to go to Rivendell would the best for both of you."

"…is there really no other way?"

"None that I know of; save, perhaps sending you back from whence you came, but neither Radagast nor I know of a way to do that."

"…what's this Rivendell like?"

"Oh, it's a wonderful place, in its way. It rest in a deep valley where the Bruinen River flows, a magnificent house of stone built upon a wooded hillside. It is one of the Elven realms, and ruled by the Lord Elrond, who is great amongst the wise, and one I count as a friend. It is not as…cosy as Rhosgobel but I dare say you will find it pleasant and, perhaps, in time, you may come to think of it as a home."

Harry made a non-committal noise in response and sank further into his seat. Gandalf regarded his sullen image with a critical eye. Evidently he took the boys silence to be reluctance.

"I know this will be a difficult transition for you, but you must give it a chance. I can promise you that Radagast and I will never stop seeking way to help you, but this is only way to ensure your safety in the mean time."

"…s'pose"

"You're a good boy Harry. Now eat you food. You never know what adventures the day might hold."

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Whatever plans Gandalf had in store for the day were discarded with Radagast's continued absence. The Grey Wizard was clearly worrying about his associate and spent hours looking pensive and almost lost while standing or sitting by the door at Rhosgobel scanning the forest for any sign of his friend.

This left Harry pretty much to his own devices, which mostly amounted to lazing around in bed felling sorry for himself before taking a walk down to the river to see the Rabbits. Though Gandalf did chide him not to go too far from Rhosgobel he didn't stop the boy wandering.

It was around midday as Harry was eating a bowl of vegetable soup – such was the staple diet at Rhosgobel – that the sound of hoof beats disturbed the otherwise peaceful atmosphere of the woodland. He rose from his seat with some trepidation and looked out the open door.

There he could see Radagast clumsily climbing down off a horse's back while Gandalf petted the animal's head, evidently talking in quiet tones. The Brown Wizard looked up after dismounting and saw Harry in the doorway. He offered the boy a timid smile, which Harry, after a moment, returned.

"So this is where you've been. Why didn't you say so?"

"Well, er, it was kind of a spur of the moment idea really. I just thought you might need them, and, really Gandalf, he wouldn't have been so, er, cooperative if it had been anyone else."

"Who did you get these horses from?"

"No one bad, if that's what you're worried about, he just…likes to be on his own. He doesn't really like people that much."

"But he likes you?"

"Well…I wouldn't say likes exactly. We, erm, help each other now and then. Mutual interests and all that."

"And who is he?"

"A, er, a skin-changer from the north. He's a decent kind of person, but fiercely independent."

"And these are his horses?"

"Well, yes, of course. He let me borrow them. Er, incidentally, you'll have to let them free afterwards; he wouldn't like it if you kept them."

"Of course."

The Grey Wizard walked around the animals with a practiced eye, judging their quality.

"Fine creatures. They'll do nicely."

"Oh, er, good. Which, erm, which way are you taking?"

"We'll take the high pass. It's the quickest route, and safest this time of year. The Lord Glorfindel patrols that road often before the snow falls and blocks it. It should be a pleasant and uneventful journey."

"A-an-a-and when, when will you leave?"

"Sometime tomorrow morning I expect. Early. The sooner the better."

"…oh. Is, er, is he, um, alright with it now?"

"I wouldn't say he's happy with it but he's agreed, reluctantly."

"Alright with what?"

Radagast physically jumped as Harry interrupted, the child having arrived without his notice. He regarded the little boy with some trepidation, exchanged glances with Gandalf before turning back to Harry.

"Well, er, alright with, erm, with going. You know, leaving here and…erm…"

"s'pose"

"…oh…that's, erm, that's good. I…I hope you don't hate me for this Harry"

Harry shook his head in reply. In all honesty there was no way he could hate Mr Radagast. Still the Brown Wizard looked worried, and maybe even a bit tormented over it.

"G-good. Tha-that's good. Well…well everything's fine then. All fine. I-I, I'm sure you'll be, be…fine…"

"…yeah…"

"Why, why don't you run along, eh? Gandalf and I, we have…things to talk about – grown up things. I-I'll talk to you in a bit"

"But…"

Harry wanted to say so many things, ask so many things. Where had Mr Radagast been? Where had the horses come from? Was he so desperate to get rid of him? Would he even miss him? But in the end he just nodded his head and walked forlornly away.

Radagast watched the child walk away with anxious eyes. He said he didn't hate him. That was good. It really was! But he didn't believe it- couldn't believe it. Harry seemed so…withdrawn now, so hesitant, and so upset, so, so, so quiet. It was as though a wall had appeared between them and cut them off from each other, as if they no longer understood each other, no longer cared, and he hated it.

Gandalf watched Harry leave and watched Radagast watching the boy walk away. This was changing Radagast. The boy was changing him. In some way, little by little. It had been so long since the Brown Wizard had allowed himself the company of anything other than birds or beast, so long, in fact, that Gandalf could not recall the last time it had happened. Hopefully it would be for the better, but who could say. Radagast was a worthy wizard in his way but far too isolated, perhaps this boy would change that.

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	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This will be the last update for a while. I haven't got far beyond this point in the and I'm busy at work for most of the day.

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That night after Harry had gone to sleep the two wizards sat outside in the moonlight. Theirs was a companionable silence. Each man content to listen to sounds of the forest and be lost in their own thoughts.

Gandalf, as he was want to do, sat with his lit pipe blowing different shapes in smoke to amuse himself, while Radagast sat with his head tilted to the sky and his hand twitching in the air as though it was conducting a symphony only he could hear.

At length the Brown Wizard spoke.

"Y-you will watch over him, wont you?"

"Of course"

"It'll be…d-difficult for him, I'm sure. A-a new place. New people. New…everything."

"Undoubtedly."

"…a-and you'll make sure he's safe?"

"Radagast, the House of Elrond one of the safest and most secure places in Middle Earth. Not even the Witch King could threaten it. It would take Sauron himself to truly do so."

"Tha-that's not what I mean."

"Oh?"

"I mean, I mean, from people, you know. People can be…thoughtless, and cruel, and he's, I mean, I don't want him to suffer that."

"I will do what I can but you can't control the actions of other people."

"…well, tha-that's, erm…"

"You could always visit him yourself from time to time. Rivendell is not that long a journey, and I'm sure he'll be pleased to see you."

"Well, I could, yes, I suppose I could, but the Greenwood is sick and getting worse, a-and I'm needed here, so it, it couldn't be often, a-and I worry about him."

"Then I shall watch him as often as I am able. However I cannot guarantee that he wont suffer from the actions of others. Most people do. It's how they learn. You'll just have to hope that he will learn the right lessons from it and grow."

"…well, I suppose, that's probably, for the best?"

"It can be."

"Then I shall have hope."

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"Come along Harry. We must away. The days are shorter and I want to make the most of the morning light."

The dawn was just breaking and Harry stood before one of the horses looking up. The animal was enormous. He could lean his head back almost vertical and still not see the top. To be honest, he was a bit intimidated by it. It was docile and calm but still large and impressive.

Mr Gandalf was already sitting astride his own horse and Mr Radagast was hovering nearby seemingly lost in his own world.

"I don't think I can get up Mr Gandalf."

He couldn't even reach the saddle.

"Oh? I'm sure Radagast can give you a hand."

"Wha-what? Oh! Yes! I-I'll help you."

The Brown Wizard walked over to Harry but stood nervously with his hands held up as if afraid to touch him. He drew his hands back and brought them to his face in nervous twitches, looked around for a bit then, in one swift motion, picked the boy up and placed him on the horse back. Harry ended up sitting side-saddle.

"You-you'll be alright wont you Harry? I-I mean, you wont, erm, that is, you'll be alright?"

"…yes…"

"I-I'll, um, it wont, er, it'll be different, eh? Not, erm, not being here."

"Yeah"

"er, I, um, Gandalf'll take good care of you, and, and I'll, um, come, come to see you…once in a while."

"Yes Mr Radagast."

"I-I've packed you this."

He produced a small sack which had been ferreted out of some corner in Rhosgobel. It had been chewed and gnawed on by rodents, clawed at by birds and carried a pungent odour, and was chequered with stains.

"It's not much. Just, just some food for the journey, a-and some clothes and things…"

It really wasn't much. Just a small gesture, but it was the first gift Harry could ever recall someone giving to him. He took it, wide-eyed, and held it in his hands as though it were the most precious thing in the world. An impulse came into his mind and he let it carry him.

He threw his arms around Mr Radagast and hugged with all his might – coming away from the horse as he did so - trying to put into a simple embrace all the feeling of gratitude for all the kindness he had been given, and all the affection he felt. Tears came unbidden to his eyes.

"Thank you! It's the best present ever!"

Radagast, at first taken aback by the embrace, relaxed at those words and returned the action, before placing the boy back on the steed and stepping away.

"I'll miss you Harry."

And suddenly he wasn't there anymore. In an instant, with no fanfare, he'd simply vanished leaving Gandalf, Harry and the horses alone before the house at Rhosgobel. Gandalf cleared his throat.

"Well, time to be off. We have a long way to go before nightfall."

"Wh-where did he go?"

"Oh, I'm sure he's around here somewhere. Probably just hiding. He can be like that."

"B-but, he just, disappeared!"

"A wizard's ways are mysterious indeed."

"But how?!"

"Now, now. That would be telling. Sometimes it's better not to know the secret."

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	9. Chapter 9

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True to his word Gandalf pressed on all morning without pause. Heading north and west they left the forest within the hour and Harry was greeted with his first glance of the world outside the forest.

Perhaps he hadn't really taken it in before now – maybe it was simply that hadn't wanted to think about it – but it was clear looking at the world beyond that wherever that fall into the pond had taken him he was no longer in England.

The wide open fields could perhaps have been home in England's green and pleasant land but there would surely have been tarmac covered roads and electric pylons criss-crossing the landscape, and the signs, here and there, of villages or towns. There was none of this.

Beyond the trees of the Greenwood there was nothing but fields and flowers, bushes and undergrowth, with the vast swirling river thundering past. And if, indeed, this was not proof enough that England was far away there were the mountains.

There was no where in any part of England that could claim ownership of such sheer rocky hillside.

As far as the eye could see the mountains covered the horizon, north and south. They climbed high up into the sky and Harry could not see the tops, no matter how he tried.

You might wonder why having lived for the last few weeks in a shack that had no electricity or plumbing in a wild and untamed forest that seemed almost deserted he hadn't been tipped off before to the idea that England may be a long way away. Well, he held onto the hope that Mr Radagast had just been a hermit or something, deliberately living in isolation by choice for…some reason.

That hope was gone now.

No. Harry had to face facts. He was far more lost than he had ever thought possible. Maybe he'd never get home.

Through the fields they travelled, following the river north, until they came to a ford where the water was parted by a solitary spire of rock. There they crossed the river and pressed on westward. Soon the wide fields gave way to great humps of earth and rock and the two travellers were forced upon the dirt track that led up into the mountains.

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It was not until early evening that Gandalf brought their journey to a halt. After helping Harry off of his horse and setting about feeding and watering the two animals he lit a fire and sat upon a rock nearby.

The child had been quiet on the journey. He hadn't complained once about being hungry or needing to relieve himself or being bored as other children might have. He'd simply allowed Gandalf to set the pace and followed without question.

In all honestly Gandalf could admit to himself now, as he watched the child wander awkwardly away with stiff limbs from the long ride, that he had not been paying the proper attention to the boy. He did not usually travel with companions, and never with a child, so he had set a pace that he was used to himself and had hardly spared a thought about it. He was feeling a bit guilty about that now.

"We'll camp here for the night."

"Here, Mr Gandalf?"

"Hmm. It'll be a clear night, and warm enough. And I dare say my old bones could do with a rest. We'll have a decent meal, a good night sleep and continue on refreshed in the morning."

"…um, yes sir"

As Gandalf busied himself with dinner – a stew of vegetables and herbs – he kept half an eye on the boy.

Harry had sat, bleary eyed and exhausted, against a nearby rock and with his arms wrapped about his bag, hugging it close too him. He hadn't even looked inside it yet, he hadn't cared to. He was happy simply having it and it didn't matter what was inside. Now as he sat down after a long day's journey he was too tired to look anyway.

Gandalf passed a bowl of stew over to the boy and roused him enough to eat it.

"I am sorry Harry."

The boy blinked through tired eyes and looked up at the wizard in confusion.

"I pushed you too hard today. I should not have done that. You are not as used to travelling as I am, and I should have realized that."

"…s'ok…"

"…hmm...nevertheless, it was wrong of me to do that. I'm used to travelling on my own, and I did not spare enough thought for you."

"…s'ok…I'm fine…don't mind…"

"It is not fine. In the future, tell me if you need a break, don't be afraid to ask for something. There's no place we are heading to so urgently that you should suffer for the journey, and it is not my intention to see you in discomfort."

"…ok Mr Gandalf…"

"…perhaps this is not the best time to speak of such things. At any rate you seem too tired for it. Finish you meal then I suggest you get some sleep."

"…mhmm…"

Harry turned back to his food and ate it at a slow pace. The wooden spoon would, at intervals, halt half way to his mouth and droop, dropping most of its load back into the bowl, and his head would bob forward and backwards as he struggled to remain awake.

Gandalf watched this display, partly amused and partly guilty, then eventually took the bowl from the boy and sent him to curl up with some blankets for the night. Then he returned to the fire and sat in thought.

The boys gentle snoring and mumbling were the only noises to disturb the quiet of the night. Gandalf looked up towards the mountains and took in the dark clouds that were gathering. A storm was coming, and it was sure to hit the High Pass. With luck it would only do so in passing and be gone before they reached the road but it would be best to prepare otherwise. The High Pass was notoriously treacherous in a storm, and people spoke of rock giants being roused in such weather, neither prospect was the most appealing for one travelling with a child.

Although he would have liked to have adapted his pace to better suit the boy the coming storm might make that impossible.

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	10. Chapter 10

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Rain fell in torrents. Like a river falling from the sky. To Harry it felt cold and harsh as it hit the exposed skin of his face.

They had been up early that day, Mr Gandalf insisting once more on an early start, but this time they shared the one horse. Mr Gandalf rationalising that Harry would struggle to get onto his own so it only made sense for them to ride together. The other horse could carry their packs, though Harry refused to be parted from his bag and carried it with him as he sat before the Grey Wizard.

As the storm had begun Mr Gandalf had wrapped his cloak around them to shelter them from the worst of it but such was the extent of the rainfall that it only served to become a soggy cloth wall and barely kept anything out. Harry was, however, glad of the warmth riding together provided.

"The High Pass can be a dangerous place."

Mr Gandalf had told Harry that morning as they packed up their small camp. Even then the rain had begun to lightly fall, a prelude to the coming deluge.

"It is a single track road through the mountains, wide enough for two or three horses to ride abreast but when it rains the surface becomes not unlike ice and an unwary traveller could easily fall to his doom. And there are rumours of giants of stone which come to life in a storm and fight amongst themselves in the valley."

"Are they real?"

"The stone giants? Who can say? I have often travelled the road of the High Pass and I have never seen them, nor can I say I know of any other who claims to have witnessed them either. They may simply be a story men of old created to explain something they did not understand. Regardless, I doubt we will have any cause to worry about them, of far more concern would the threat of Goblins."

"Goblins? What are Goblins?"

"Goblins are…well they are a wicked race. They dwell in the dark places of the world and hate the free peoples. They kill for sport, they delight in torturing others, they are incapable of compassion and, I'm afraid to say, they eat people. Believe me, my lad; you do not want to meet a Goblin on this journey."

"B-but this is safe right? We're not going to see any Goblins or anything, are we?"

"If not for the rain I would have no doubt about it. The road is patrolled and kept clear regularly, but this becomes almost impossible in a storm. They may decide to take this opportunity to venture out of their holes. That is why you must stay close by me, do you understand?"

"Um, yes, Mr Gandalf."

"I mean it Harry. I chose to take the High Pass because I believed it would be the safest and quickest route. The storm may change that. I cannot take any risks. You must keep close to me and do as I say without question."

"Yes sir. I will sir."

"Good lad. With luck we shall be through the pass without incident within a day, or two at the most."

And that was how they came now to be sharing a horse travelling along a road through the mountains with a sheer cliff one side leading up into the cloud covered heavens and a sheer drop on the other leading down into the dark abyss.

There was little light to be seen in the valley, save only the light which Mr Gandalf allowed to shine from his staff, and little to see anyway, only rocks and rain.

For hours they soldiered on against the storm. Harry did not complain about the journey despite the stiffness of his limbs – he had no desire to stop in that cold, dark and windy mountain pass which might contain monsters and fighting giants – and, despite his words the previous night, Gandalf did not want to stop either. There were no safe places to stop in the Pass in weather like this.

A sudden flash of lightning illuminated the valley and a crash of thunder deafened the travellers as it rolled down the side of the mountain, swept across the road and fell away into the darkness. There followed a distant rumbling from above.

The horse jolted at the sound and reared up upon its hind legs, throwing its riders to the ground before bolting off into the valley. Gandalf had bore the brunt of the fall but swiftly sought out his young companion to ensure he hadn't been injured. Harry was dazed but unharmed, and Gandalf gave a sigh of relief but then realization hit him in an instant and he turned his gaze up the valley wall.

"Quickly! Against the wall!"

The Wizard lifted Harry to his feet and pushed him towards the wall of the pass before pressing against it himself, holding Harry close to his side and shielding him.

Rocks and stones tumbled across the road from above. Some bounced and rolled into the valley, others piled up on the road, all covering the area when the Wizard and boy had been but a moment before. Minutes passed by and the rock fall continued unabated. Harry was certain that the mountain itself must be falling around them.

At last there was calm.

Gandalf pulled away from the boy to assess the situation.

A great pile of rubble now blocked the pass – it had missed them by inches – if they had been but a moment slower they would have been buried beneath it. He looked down over the side of the cliff and imagined that he could still see the rocks tumbling, that he could hear the crashing and thudding of blunt stone against cliff side. Then he turned his gaze back up the mountain and it seemed unchanged, as though the rock fall had never happened.

It was fortune that he had been so quick to act, but now they had a problem.

The horse they had been riding had galloped off into the darkness and could be anywhere – it could even have leapt from the path and plummeted down the mountain side in his panic - the horse that had been carrying their packs had bolted the moment the rocks had begun to fall and was no where to be seen, and, worse still, they were only about halfway through the High Pass. It would be take a few days to reach the other side without the horses.

"It seems we must make the rest of the journey on foot."

He looked over to Harry. The boy was curled in upon himself, trying to shelter from the rain, shivering and soaked to the bone.

There was no other option but to continue onward but the boy wouldn't last in this storm. It would be best to find some shelter, an outcrop of rock that could keep the wind and rain off, or a cave if necessary – though the prospect of accidentally discovering Goblins within one made Gandalf wary of that – whatever the case they had to keep moving.

Gandalf sighed, removed his hat and placed it onto the boy's head. It was so big on the child that it fell past his ears, covered his whole face and rested on his shoulders. Harry was taken by surprise at the sudden darkness and, after a few moments, tentatively raised the brim with his hand to look quizzically up at the wizard.

"M-M-Mr G-Gan-Gandalf?"

"It might be a bit big but it'll keep the worst of the rain off, at least until we can find some shelter."

The boy nodded, or perhaps attempted to, the hat falling back to cover his head made it hard to tell.

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It must have been an hour or more before they found shelter. An hour of miserable, rain soaked, wind swept trudging along a slippery treacherous road which had taken to pelting rock and stone down the valley at intermittent intervals, forcing them to press up against the wall of the pass to avoid being bludgeoned, making the going even slower.

Eventually they found a small cave, barely a meter deep. It was just about large enough that Gandalf could lay down and touch the walls, but it was sheltered from the rain and wind, and it was warm, once Gandalf had miraculously started a fight with some odds and ends pulled from his pockets – really, it should have been impossible, there was not nearly enough kindling or wood, but somehow he'd still done it - but it could have been the finest of inns for the two travellers on that night.

The two sat side by side with Gandalf's heavy, still ringing wet cloak draped around them in an attempt to seek as much warmth as possible. It wasn't that effective but they were glad of the meagre comfort it provided.

Once more the journey had exhausted the boy, though this time more due to the conditions than the pace, and soon Harry was fast asleep against the Wizard's side.

Gandalf drew his pipe from his pocket then filled it with tobacco and tried to light it. It didn't work. He looked into the pipe and gave a huff of annoyance. He tipped it up and allowed the sodden weed to fall on the cave floor with a wet slap, then tapped the pipe against his knee a few times to try to get any remaining water out. Then he tried again with fresh tobacco.

Soon he sat thoughtfully puffing.

How quickly his plans had gone astray. A night in the valley was expected, but he had hoped to keep hold of the horses and keep moving until dawn, but more pressing was the loss of the packs, for they had contained what provisions the two would have required for the journey. Now both horses were lost and with them they food and drink needed to reach Rivendell.

Gandalf himself could go weeks without food or drink if necessary but the boy – malnourished and weak as he was despite the stay at Rhosgobel - likely couldn't last more than a couple of days.

Gandalf's eye strayed to the boy's bag.

Hopefully whatever Radagast had prepared would sustain the child, at least until they existed the valley and Gandalf could forage for more. Though what Radagast thought suitable provisions for a long journey was uncertain as he was not the type to travel long distances.

He could only hope that the Brown Wizard had been sensible. Perhaps a quick look was in order.

Carefully, so as not to disturb the child, Gandalf eased the bag from his grip and released the fastening to look inside.

"Oh?"

A gasp of surprise.

"What are you doing in there? I'm certain Radagast didn't intend for you to join our merry company."

A small red squirrel looked up out of the bag and twitches nervously at the sound of the Grey Wizard's voice. The animal looked quite content nestled amongst the ragged shirt and breeches. Gandalf reached inside to cup it gently and bring it into the light of the fire-lit cave.

"Well now, my little friend, you are a surprise. What are you? A stowaway? A spy?"

The squirrel squeaked once or twice then gave a shake which travelled the length of its body before it ran in a circle around the wizard's wrist and settled in the palm of his hand to look up at him with a curious eye.

It looked…unusually intelligent for a squirrel Gandalf thought - a consequence of a close relationship with a magical being most likely.

"A friend of Radagast's then. Did he send you with us after all or is this your own doing?"

His only answer was a tilted head and a twitch of the rodent's nose.

"Whatever the case I'm afraid you're stuck with us for now. It's a long way back to the Greenwood and I would not release you into the storm."

"Ah!"

A sudden cry from his side startled Gandalf yet the squirrel merely scratched at an ear in an unconcerned manner. The wizard raised an amused eyebrow at the creature before turning to his young companion.

Harry had been disturbed from his slumber by the sound of Mr Gandalf talking to someone. His had not been a deep sleep in the first place given the location and the weather thus the rumblings of his companions voice had been enough to wake him. Yet he had not been prepared for the shock of seeing the Squirrel perched upon the wizard's hand.

Harry had all but leapt away from Mr Gandalf's side in shock and, perhaps, a bit of fear.

"Hah-how did he get here!"

"As a matter of fact he was nestled quite comfortably in you pack. The entire way from Rhosgobel it seems."

"Bu-but he's, I mean, it, it's dangerous!"

"He's a squirrel. An omnivorous rodent that survives primarily upon a diet of vegetation, nuts, seeds and insects, hardly a dangerous creature."

"But, but he bit me!"

"Animals will do that when startled or frightened"

"But, but, but…"

"He is just a squirrel Harry. He is harmless, and quite tame. I believe he is a friend of Radagast."

"But…"

"He will not harm you if you do not harm him. Here. See for yourself."

Gandalf moved to pass the squirrel over to the boy but Harry let out an alarmed gasp and scuttled as far away as the cave would allow.

"There's no need to be so frightened of him."

"But, but what if he bites me again?"

"Just be calm and let him come to you. You cannot for yourself upon a wild animal"

"You said he was tamed!"

"Tame, for a wild animal. Radagast does not domesticate animals – that means training them to be handled by people – he befriends them. If this squirrel is his friend, and I believe him so, then he is a wild now as his ancestors were when they were first made. Treat him with the respect due and he wont bite."

"Er…"

Harry gaze nervously flitted between the wizards and the squirrel in his outstretched hand. Eucephalus, for it was indeed the same squirrel, regarded the boy with a malevolent eye as his tail twitched back and forth. Harry gave a pleading look to the Grey Wizard and received and encouraging smile in return. He steeled his mind and held out a hand.

"No."

Harry abruptly pulled his hand back causing Eucephalus to shake his head to the side and twitch his nose. Mr Gandalf had spoken quietly and calmly, and kept that tone as he spoke once more.

"Do not move to take him. Let him come to you. It has to be his choice."

"O-o-okay."

Nervously Harry placed his hands into his lap and closed his eyes. Honestly, he didn't really want the squirrel on him, Eucephalus was unpredictable and had already bit him before, but Mr Gandalf seemed intent and Harry had learned long ago that what he wanted didn't matter to adults. Mr Gandalf had been nice enough overall, but he did tell him not to question him when he was told to do something. So Harry focused on being as calm as he could be.

Time stretched on with only the crackling of the fire and the booming of the storm outside the only sounds breaking the silence. At length the boy felt a tickling on the skin of his hand, then a light tugging on his clothes. The tugging sensation ran up his right side until it reached his neck where a new tickling feeling was followed up by a something soft sweeping passed his ear. Once more the tugging returned, this time down his chest, before a warmth settled on the hands he held in his lap.

"There now. That wasn't so bad was it?"

Harry opened his eyes and gazed down. Eucephalus now lay curled up on the back of his hands, with the Squirrels' head buried beneath his tail, looking for all the world as if he was settling down to sleep.

"An example to both of us I'd say. We could both do with a bit of sleep, especially with the long journey ahead."

"M-Mr Gandalf?"

"Hmm?"

"C-can you take him back now? Please?"

"He seems quite happy where he is, but if you're sure."

"Yes sir."

"Very well. I suppose he'll be happier where he came from"

Without ceremony the Grey Wizard reached out and lifted the dozing squirrel from Harry to place it back within its nest in the boy's bag.

"Now try to get some sleep Harry. We really do have a long way to travel come the morning."

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	11. Chapter 11

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The next day the rain still fell but the intensity of the storm had lessened. It was now merely a gentle shower rather than a raging torrent. This was little comfort for the two companions however as they had yet to recover from the deluge the previous day and were still soaked.

Harry, at least, had been able to change into somewhat fresh clothes – though this had required removing the slumbering Eucephalus from them and shaking them out as best his could – they still smelt of squirrel and were discoloured in patches but there were better than his sodden clothes of the previous day.

Mr Gandalf was less fortune as his spare clothing had vanished in the night along with the horses. Nevertheless he seemed none the worse for ware, and had even somehow managed to dry his hat. Now he carried the squirrel upon his shoulder as they walked along the High Pass towards their destination.

The journey was long but thankfully uneventful. Here and there the signs of the previous storm were noticeable – a pile of rubble here and there, a tree or two blown over to half cover the road – but all in all the day proved far less exiting, for which the Grey Wizard was thankful.

The issue of food and water was still pressing. There had been an assortment of vegetables, herbs, nuts and berries within Harry's pack – some of which Eucephalus had claimed already – which provided them with provisions to sustain them for a day if rationed but beyond that whatever hope they had lay in either finding the horses or exiting the High Pass.

It was therefore a relief when midday turned into early-afternoon the sound of hoof beats echoed through the valley.

Harry had feared they were Goblins but Mr Gandalf assured him that Goblins did not ride horses. The Grey Wizard hoped they were the steeds that had bolted in the storm, perhaps having become lost as ended up doubling back in the valley and passing the cave in which they had spent the night.

Yet as the road became wider the source of the hoof beats became clear.

A company of some twenty riders had halted on the road to water their horses. Each steed was white and twice as big as the two horses Radagast had borrowed for their journey. They were bridled in gold and silver and their riders wore bronzed armour with the motif of a leaf.

All except one.

The lone unbridled horse seemed to stand out from the others, as if it were whiter and more real than any other horse could be, and the un-armoured rider wore a cloak of green and silver which contrasted his golden head of hair as he seemed to shine like a beacon, as though somehow a light filled his body wanting to emerge.

Mr Gandalf let out a brief laugh of joy and surprise and quickened his pace to meet the riders.

"Ho! Glorfindel!"

The golden haired rider jolted in surprise but rushed forward to greet the Grey Wizard warmly as they clasped hands.

"Mithrandir? Well met! I must confess that I had not looked to see you in the valley this day. What task had brought you hence?"

"A favour for a friend - Radagast in fact. But it is indeed fortuitous to have stumbled upon you now. I had thought you would not travel this road in such weather."

"And usually I would not. Such unseasonably violent storms I have not seen in an age. Yet duty brought me forth. We were tracking a Goblin band that crossed the Bruinen not two weeks past. We fear they have been scouting routes towards the Angle, or mayhap Bree and the Shire. Whatever the cause it is unusual for them to travel in such numbers, even more so in the light of day."

"That is unsettling news. How goes the hunt?"

"Poorly, it must be said. We lost track of out quarry in the valley, and the storm has washed away the trail. But come. Tell me of this favour which has you abroad in such weather."

With a flourish Gandalf swept his cloak aside and gestured to Harry to come forward.

Harry had lingered back and away from the group. They were all so tall and intimidating, all armed and armoured and faceless, save the one Mr Gandalf had called Glorfindel – yet even he was intimidating in his own way, being so other-worldly and majestic so as not to seem real. Mr Gandalf was certainly friendly enough with them but Harry could not help but be a bit frightened of them.

As he approached Mr Gandalf, Harry could feel the eyes of all the riders turn to him and found it unsettling. He half-dashed forward until he was at the Grey Wizard's side, keeping his gaze to the floor. He felt Mr Gandalf's hand come to rest supportively on his shoulder.

"This is Harry. Radagast discovered him alone in the Greenwood, and I am taking him to Lord Elrond so as to be safe."

"'lo"

"Well met young one. Though I sense, perhaps, there is more to this tale."

"And you would be correct, but I would rather speak of it elsewhere. There are more pressing matters. Our mounts bolted in the night and took with them our provisions for the journey."

"Worry not mellon nin! You may share of ours, and we shall be glad of the company on the journey back should you wish to ride with us."

"That is a kind offer, and one we shall be glad to accept."

"Then it is settled. Come. Sustenance awaits!

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The meal the riders provided the two travellers consisted of water from leather flasks, some dried meat and a very small amount of bread. Harry, despite having learned long ago how to survive on scraps, could not help but think it a rather barren meal. If Dudley had been served this he would have thrown a fit so loud it would have brought the whole mountains down.

Nevertheless, it was welcome after half a day's hike through the mountains after such a meagre breakfast.

"The bread is Lembas"

Mr Gandalf had, perhaps, anticipated some kind of complaint about the size of the meal and decided to explain the reason as he sat down beside Harry with his own rations.

"It is special bread made only by the Elves. A small portion can fill a full grown man's stomach for hours and sustain him for several days labour. It's good for you, very strengthening, but overwhelming in large portions. I recommend taking it slowly with small bites, and do not eat the whole thing at once or you will feel rather unwell."

Harry looked down at the bread in his hand in silence. He took a small nibble at it and swallowed but felt no different.

"What, um, what are Elves, Mr Gandalf?"

"Hmm?"

"What're Elves?"

"Elves? Have you never met one before?"

Harry shook his head. He couldn't remember even hearing of them.

"Well, Elves are…the firstborn, born in starlight before the rising of the Sun and Moon. They are a great and noble people, wise and strong, and they help guard this world from evil. You see our companions?"

Mr Gandalf gestured to the assembled riders, now all at rest, save a guard at the edge of camp, and talking amongst themselves. Harry couldn't help but notice how their eyes kept staying back towards him – it made him uncomfortable – only the golden-haired Glorfindel seemed unfazed by his presence.

"All are Elves of Imladris – Rivendell in the common tongue."

"…why do they keep looking at me?"

"Because you are a child."

"But, but why?"

Mr Gandalf let out a long, almost sad, sigh.

"Elves live different lives then men. They can live for thousands of years without change, never getting old, never falling ill, never dying."

"Th-th-thousands?"

"Indeed. But it comes at a price. It is very rare for them to have children of their own, and it has been hundreds of years since the last Elfling was born, as such they see children as a thing more precious than any riches or any glory. Sadly the realms of man and elf do not often meet, and it is likely that you are the first or second child many of these Elves will have ever seen."

"I-I don't like them staring…"

Harry sullenly began nibbling at his meal again, trying to ignore the stares of the surrounding Elves. Being the centre of attention was not something he was comfortable with; in fact he was used to being ignored. When he had been with Mr Radagast it was a bit different because that was only one person and Mr Radagast was perhaps even more uncomfortable with the situation than Harry had been, but with these Elves, well, they so many of them…

"They are curious and nothing more."

Mr Gandalf patted his shoulder reassuringly and gave him a smile.

"I know this will be difficult for you, more so once we reach Rivendell, but try to be kind to them. They…do not mean to make you unhappy."

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	12. Chapter 12

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The journey to Rivendell was swift now the Wizard and Child travelled with the Elven riders.

Harry and Mr Gandalf shared a horse once more, forcing two Elves to share another, and the Elven steeds crossed the landscape at a canter which would have been a full gallop for the two horses they had lost in the valley, and the most remarkable thing was the smoothness of the ride.

Where the two horses they had borrowed from Mr Radagast's acquaintance were study animal and walked with a rocking gait which had put Harry in mind of a boat, these horses moves almost as if they were gliding on air and he barely felt the shift of muscles.

Yet even these impressive steeds paled in comparison to the horse which Mr Glorfindel rode.

The unbridled and unsaddled steed led the company and set the pace. While the other horses strained at the bit to keep up the white steed of the golden-haired Elf covered the ground with ease and barely seemed winded by the quick pace or the long miles.

Soon they had left the valley of the High Pass far behind and the landscape opened up once more into rolling fields and hills of green, and wild woods and running rivers.

It must be noted that the woods and forest were far more scarce this side of the mountain, and there was nothing that could compare to the Greenwood, nor was there a river that could challenge the raging torrent of the one which ran past the eastern face of the mountain.

Here in the west the land was more tame and civilized.

When the company halted briefly by the river which ran south-west from the entrance of the High Pass – which Mr Gandalf informed him was the Bruinen – it was a kindness to the horses which could no longer keep pace with the leading steed. Mr Glorfindel's horse spent the short respite playing in a small clearing nearby, seeming none the worse for ware.

After about half and hours respite the company pressed on once more, following the river towards their destination. Just as the Sun began to set they entered the valley where the House of Elrond stood.

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Harry wasn't sure what he had expected.

Mr Gandalf had told him that Rivendell was a house of stone in a valley by the river, and in his mind he had been picturing something like Privet Drive only bigger, and with a river alongside it.

This was not what saw.

To describe Rivendell as a "house of stone" was to vastly underplay its stature. It stood rising out of the hillside like a palace, a magnificent structure of countless spires and arches with waterfalls cascading around it until they met and joined beneath a circular walkway into a series of falls joining the main river in the valley below. The buildings themselves were made of pale stone which seemed almost silver in the light of the setting sun, and was large enough to have housed a thousand or more people.

It was, all at once, the most beautiful and most daunting place Harry had ever seen.

Was this really where Mr Gandalf intended him to stay? It was a place fit for royalty – not for an orphan boy who slept under the stairs – how could he be expected to fit in here? Or even be comfortable surrounded by such splendour?

The company crossed the bridge into the courtyard and Harry swivelled his head trying to take the whole place in. He felt a twinge of longing for the tumbledown house in the forest; the creaking, groaning, ruinous shack that was Rhosgobel in all it's isolation from civilization. The two places could not have been more different but now that he found himself in Rivendell he could not help but feel out of place here.

"Mithrandir?"

As the company dismounted a figure descended a stairway to approach them. He wore a robe of red and gold, and upon his head rested a silver-gold circlet which held back his long black hair. He was…difficult to describe. He was neither young nor old yet there was something in his eyes, a look upon his face that seemed to imply to Harry that he was even older than Mr Radagast or Mr Gandalf.

"My friend, I had not expected you. Last I had heard you were in Gondor. What has brought you so far?"

"An errand, Lord Elrond, though one I would rather speak of inside."

"Of course. My study is free; we shall speak of this errand there, but first I must attend to more pressing matters. How faired the hunt Glorfindel?"

As the Elf-lord turned to speak with his kin something caught his eye and caused him to halt, a little boy peaking out from behind the Grey Wizard's cloak. Elrond tilted his head in confusion as he observed the child then turned his confused gaze to the wizard.

"I did not realize you were travelling with children Mithrandir, or is he, perhaps, the cause of your journey?"

"Indeed, it is for this boy that I have come, and to ask for a favour"

Elrond's face grew tense in thought as Gandalf rested his hand upon the child's shoulder, once more offering silent support. The Grey Wizard was a notorious wanderer – a trait which had granted him his Elven name – but he was not often one to travel with company, and in all the long years they had been friend he had never known Mithrandir to travel with children. Curiosity peaked within him as to why this had changed now.

"It seems there is a story to tell about this boy, and I am curious to hear it."

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	13. Chapter 13

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"I cannot tell the whole tale for I do not know it all"

Elrond's study was a large room which opened up onto a balcony overlooking the pond created by the waterfalls over which the moon now rose. Its walls were stacked with shelves filled with books and ancient tomes. A desk stood almost isolated in the centre of the room upon a platforms raised by three circular stairs and illuminated by numerous candles which stood on sticks like those found within a church. Towards the balcony there stood a table and chairs.

Gandalf stood at the opening to the balcony, he spared a glance down to his side when the young Harry sat – the boy had seemed reluctant to even touch the furniture and now sat upon the floor with his back to an arch, almost huddled into himself – it was…concerning.

"And, in truth, I am not sure if Harry knows it either."

He turned back towards the room where Elrond and Glorfindel waited. Each had watched the boy as they had journeyed to the study. They had no doubt noted his reluctance to stray too far from Gandalf's side – another worrying development – but what thoughts they had about this they kept to themselves.

"So I will tell you what I know."

The Grey Wizard patted the boy's head gently before walking into the room and drawing a chair. Harry stayed still as the wizards moved across the room but scrambled after him once he had sat down. Now the boy sat at the wizards' feet like a puppy brought to heel.

"A little over two months past I received a message from Radagast. It came as something of a surprise as he has become reclusive of late, yet more concerning was the content. He seemed to have discovered something but wasn't exactly clear on what and did not know what to do with himself so was asking for my help. Well, of course, naturally I was only too willing and made my way to Rhosgobel immediately."

"The journey itself was uneventful, and I made good time, yet the weather had begun to turn against me and the rain began to fall as I entered the forest. It was a dark day, made darker still by the leaves of the trees, yet a candle burned in the window of Rhosgobel so I assumed Radagast was at home. I approached the door and announced my self by knocking, yet no answer came. After three knocks the door was opened and I was greeted by a child."

His gazed swept down to the boy at his feet before he continued.

"I had not expected to see a child at Rhosgobel and I'm afraid I did not react all that well. I frightened the boy and he ran back into the house. I followed, concerned for his safety, yet he had vanished. A loud noise, something like the crack of a whip, had sounded and he was no where to be found."

"I searched that house as thoroughly as I was able yet I could not find the boy. It was at this time that Radagast returned from the forest. He had been foraging for supplies to refill his food stores and so had been absent when I arrived. I explained to him what had happened and he was beside himself with worry, so much so that he could not think clearly."

"As we continued our search for the boy within the house the weather outside worsened and soon it became a thunder storm, yet despite our combined efforts the child still eluded us. All hope seemed lost but then a sparrow flew in through the open door. It told us it had seen a child running into the forest and that it could lead us to it."

"In haste we readied his sleigh and followed the bird deep into the heartland of that forest. Were fortunate that night to find him so swiftly for the spiders had come upon him, and had we been but a moment later then I fear he would not be here now."

Another lingered gaze fell upon the boy as Gandalf contemplated just such an outcome, and dreaded it. He turned to look at the Elven Lords and saw that they, too, wore a look of concern for the prospect.

"That night I discovered that the boy was the reason Radagast had sent for me. He had found him alone in the Greenwood, frightened and weeping, and could not leave him there. Over the weeks that followed he had learned that the boy had come to the forest through some magical means, seeking to escape someone who had hurt him, and had no means to return home."

"Given the events of the night as they had unfolded I felt perhaps the magic that had brought him hence had been his own and said as much. Radagast had promised to help him return to his home, and I had committed myself to helping him fulfil that promise, but whatever magic was the cause of his journeys I had never encountered it, and thus could offer no assistance."

"It was clear that the Greenwood had grown far more dangerous than even Radagast has suspected, yet he blamed himself for the events of that night and knew he could not ensure the boys safety should he remain at Rhosgobel, and with no means to return him from whence he came the only alternative was to find a safe place for him to dwell."

"That is what I have come. I ask for safe haven for the boy here within the walls of Rivendell."

Elrond and Glorfindel had sat in silence throughout, both had learned long ago the value of patience, yet now they sat disturbed. The golden-haired Elf looked at the boy in pity and compassion yet the lord of Rivendell was troubled.

"I have never heard of a child of man to possess the kind of magic of which you speak, indeed its like is unheard of even amongst the Maiar. How came this to be?"

"I cannot say. I have never known its like myself, and it would concern me more if the boy knew of it."

"You mean he does not?"

"Hmm. He seems unaware of the ability, and unable to call upon it at will."

"But surely that is of greater concern. If he is not able to wield it then he cannot master it, and if such is the case he may lash out unintentionally and harm those around him."

"I do not believe so. It seems to be triggered by moments of great stress or strong emotion, and thus far has only been used in defence of himself. I do not think he would harm others, intentionally or otherwise."

"Do you understand fully what you ask of me Mithrandir? You ask that I bring a boy, a magical child no less, into my home when you have no guarantee that he will not be a danger to those around him."

"I am fully aware of what I ask, and I would not do so if there were another option, but I see none. All I can say is that I will never cease looking for a way to return him to his home and hope that his stay here would be temporary until that time."

"But it may not be."

Elrond rose from his chair and approached a window to gather his thoughts. He was not without compassion, and sympathised with the boy, yet the fact remained that he possessed a form of magic that he did not control and could potentially bring harm to others, and, as Lord of Rivendell, Elrond had to weight up whether he could accept that risk. At length he turned back to the room and spoke.

"I do not appreciate the manner in which you have brought this before me Mithrandir, nor am I pleased with the trouble you have delivered to my door, yet I cannot fault the child. He cannot change what he is, and if what you say is true, he does not even know what he is."

The Elf-lord spared a glance at the boy.

"He shall have safe haven here, for however long he needs it."

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The first thing the Elves did with Harry was to bathe him.

He was filthy from dirt and dust accumulated on the travel and, truth be told, from his stay at Rhosgobel – Radagast was many things but hygienic was not one of them – his clothes were ragged, sodden, stained and somewhat beyond re-use, so they were taken from him.

He found himself in the most exposed bathroom he had ever experienced.

It was a large white room with the arches and floral motif which the architect had favoured decorating the surrounding walls. The arches on three sides opened up to the surrounding world – though, thankfully, not as entrances but windows – allowing the light to shine through the thin pale curtains. The last wall lead back to the main building and supported an oaken door.

The bath itself might have been a swimming pool - it was bigger than the Dursley's living room!

There were two circular basins which filled the majority of the chamber and a smaller basin on a lower platform. It drew water from a hot spring and tempered its heat by adding water from the waterfalls; these were channelled into the smaller basin as required.

It was elaborate and ostentatious, and Harry was a bit reluctant to use it for fear of damaging it, but the potential embarrassment over having someone bathe him won over and soon he was clean, and slightly damp.

That night he slept in a proper bed for the first time in his life, listening to the rumble of the nearby falls.

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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This will likely be the last update for a while because I'm struggling with how to progress from this point. I need to work out how to introduce Estel and I'm not sure how to do that at the moment. I have no beta reader and no one to bounce ideas off so I'm at an impass at the moment. I'd welcome any suggestions about how to introduce Estel but bare in mind that I might not use them.


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